


Is this a Truce or Treason?

by Silver_Centurion



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Biting, Hate Sex, M/M, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, a little violence, also with a little fuck or die sprinkled in there, classic tapped in a cave scenario, just an excute to sex tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8577058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Centurion/pseuds/Silver_Centurion
Summary: Rodimus finds himself in a compromising situation with the Decepticon Deadlock.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Welp this is just an excuse for these two to frick frack. I tried to take a more believable spin on the while 'fuck or die' concept and I think I may have succeeded! Please enjoy and let me know if you spot any major errors.

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.

Rodimus exvented with a heavy groan and rubbed the heels of his servos against his optics in a desperate attempt to relieve the tenseness there.

“Will you stop making so much noise?”

Rodimus peaked through his fingers and glared at his unwilling roommate.

“Do you think I like this situation? I hate this too you know.”

Deadlock sneered in that self appreciating way Decepticons always managed to achieve when they were in the presence of a ‘lowly Autobot’.

“Well hate it quieter. It’s bad enough I am forced to share a space with the likes of you, so I’d rather not have to listen to your insistent moaning.”

Rodimus rolled his optics for what felt like the hundredth time, and Rodimus was struck again with the urge to punch in those perfect pointed denta. But he refrained because he was a dignified mech. A good little Autobot.

Besides, he didn’t want to wait for his rescue trapped in an enclosed space with a corpse. That would just suck even more.

“It’s not moaning you glitch. It’s called a sigh. It’s a physical representation of how _fed up_ I am with your bullslag!” Rodimus barked and immediately regretted it.

His voice bounced off the metallic walls of their impromptu prison. Vast series’ of tunnels ran along and far below this metallic planet’s surface, and while the majority of the planet’s structure was fairly stable, there were many spots that had become naturally rusted away. Spots that were prone to cave ins. And prone to trapping unknowing Autobots with Decepticon whiners.

And to make matters worse, there were compromising minerals buried deep within the metal. The combinations of metals and minerals were wrecking their internal systems. Both of them were overcharging dangerously quickly—especially when they were trying to kill each other—and both agreed to a very uneasy truce until some form of help arrived. Thankfully a distress beacon managed to make its way out, but it was a matter of chance as to which team would receive and respond to the signal.

“Then come and do something about it puny Autobot!” Deadlock snarled, baring those classic Decepticon chompers. All unnecessary show in Rodimus’ opinion.

“Yeah sure! I’ll come right over there and knock in your denta—because seriously they bug me so much how do they even—and risk both of us dying from overcharge just because a moment of petty squabbling is _so_ worth my life. Am I right? I mean one scuffle is obviously—“

“Don’t mock me!” The ‘Con hissed, but crossed his arms in a grumpy gesture.

Rodimus considered that a victory.

“No like it matters though,” Rodimus continued with another sigh and ran his servo over his helm. “This charge is building up no matter what we do. Kinda prolonging the inevitable you know?”

Deadlock scoffed and stretched his long legs out, taking up most of the room in the small space much to Rodimus’ irritation, and said, “Wow. Is that the famous Autobot optimism I’ve heard so much about?”

Rodimus shrugged, “Well I’m nothing if not confident in the thought that we are going to die in here—“

“We are not going to _die_ in here!” Deadlock barked with more fire than Rodimus thought this grump capable of. “A signal managed to send, and all we have to do now is wait.”

Rodimus gave him a moment before saying, “Oh, are you done? Okay are you sure? Good. Okay first off, it’s rude to interrupt. Second, _if you had just let me finish_ , I was going to say that ‘we are going to die in here’ **unless** we find a way to dispel this damn charge. It’s building up way too quick. You can play macho Decepticon all you like, but I know it’s getting to you to.”

As Rodimus spoke some of his minor systems were going haywire. This situation was getting worse and worse by just sitting here, and by the look on Deadlocks face it seemed he was coming to the same conclusion.

“So what do you propose?” Deadlock asked with a surprising lack of resistance.

“Well,” Rodimus drawled and made a few absent gestures with his servos. “What do you normally do to dispel charge?”

Deadlock seemed to consider him for a moment before replying.

“A medical suppresser?”

“Does it look like we have anything ‘medical’ around here?”

“Well beyond medical intervention the only thing I know of that can dispel charge in mass amounts is fra—“

The look on Deadlocks face was nothing short of comical. Who knew a Decepticon’s optics could get so wide.

“You are suggesting we frag?” Deadlock said, drawing up his legs as if now the thought of being so close to Rodimus was repulsive.

“Do you **see** any other options?” Rodimus said, gesturing to their barren ‘cave’.

“OH I don’t know, _death_ perhaps?”

“Oh don’t be a sparkling! Look I seriously would try to find another option of I could, but we are trapped down here. Help probably is a long way off, and this charge is building the longer we sit on our afts and do nothing! It’s either die over sheer stubbornness or put on your big boy armor and save yourself. Trust me, I don’t like this either, but I would rather frag a Decepticon (Primus forgive me) then die from fried circuits.”

The air had suddenly become tense, and Deadlock was the tensest between the two of them. Rodimus could almost see the internal struggle on the Decepticon’s face. While the feeling was understandable, Rodimus was becoming increasingly agitated as the ‘Con couldn’t seem to come up with a simple answer. Obviously life was awesome. Throwing it away because of some illogical pride was dumb. Plain and simple.

Maybe he needed a push in the right direction.

Rodimus’ panel snapped open as he spread his legs in an obscene display that was a little much even for him, but it gave Deadlock quite a view.

“Frag me.”

Deadlocks optics darted to Rodimus’ valve and seemed to be glued there for a moment—in either terror or interest Roddy wasn’t sure—before he tore his gaze away.

“No!”

Rodimus huffed, “Frag me!”

“No!” Deadlock shook his helm in defiance.

“Stop being a fragging youngling and frag me you piece of slag!”

Deadlock ground his denta and his optics darted back to Rodimus’. His look was fierce, but there was an undertone there.

“I. Said. NO.”

“And I said yes. Now get in me before I come over there and _make_ you get in me!”

“Primus will you just shut up?!”

“I will if you frag me.”

Deadlock snarled and slammed his fist down onto the battered floor, “You stubborn piece of—FINE. Fine alright?”

Rodimus grinned in victory, but his grin fell as Deadlock got on his knees and made his way over to him. Oh yeah. He didn’t really want this either. In all the excitement he had kinda forgot.

“Look I don’t—“

Rodimus’ words were cut off as Deadlock crashed their lips together. The kiss was immediately fierce and domineering, and it stole the air out of Rodimus’ intake and made his spark thrum. Kissing a Decepticon was _far_ different then kissing an Autobot, while at the same time there was no difference at all. After all, lips were lips no matter what, but the overall feeling behind the kiss was something uniquely Decepticon.

Rodimus moaned and his glossa immediately came into play. Deadlock was surprisingly compliant with this, and he opened his mouth to give Rodimus access. The red mech happily took advantage of this, but immediately regretted diving in so quickly.

“Gah! Frag, no biting!” he hissed as his own energon welled up from the little pricks on his glossa.

“What’s the matter little ‘Bot? Can’t handle a little rough play?” The glitch laughed and brought their lips back together hungrily. That defiance from earlier must have been some sort of act, because Deadlock seemed plenty eager now.

“Shut up and frag me already,” Rodimus panted in between kisses. “We don’t have time for foreplay.”

Rodimus tried not to think too hard about the copious amounts of treason he was committing as Deadlocks paneling snapped open, and his spike pressurized. It was so wrong on so many levels, but somewhere in the back of his processor he could admit that it was kinda erotic. It was like some bad raunchy holovid come to life but in the best of ways.

Deadlock seemed to lack the finesse that Rodimus was used to, because he buried himself to the hilt deep inside of Rodimus’ valve. His valve lining stretched wide to accommodate the ‘Cons endowment, and the dry burn of being entered with little prep made Rodimus yelp.

“Frag! SLAG! The pit, why are you fragging huge?” He hissed and dug his servos into the thick plating on Deadlocks shoulders.

The ‘con looked smug, groaning and grinding his hips forward as he said, “That’s what you get for goading me on you little Autobot. You wanted a frag, so I’m giving you one.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to fragging impale me,” Rodimus gaped, then yelled out as Deadlock started thrusting.

The pull and tug of the inner walls of his mesh was much more pronounced because of the lack of lubrication. It burned, it stung, but frag there was a part of him that liked the animalistic nature of it all. He really felt like he was being rutted into, used, and thoroughly fragged.

Rodimus threw his helm back and yelled out as Deadlock suddenly started slamming into him with vigor. His vision started to fritz at the edges, and he couldn’t control the slew of filth that rolled out of his mouth.

“Oh slag! S-Slag! Yes frag me. Oh Primus, your spike is fantastic!”

“Do you ever shut up?” Deadlock growled and silenced him with a kiss.

No matter how rough and tough this ‘Con seemed it was still obvious he was enjoying himself. His grunts and groans went straight to Rodimus’ throbbing valve, and the kissing certainly was helping. Their lips melded together as their glossa pushed and pulled, the connection of their hips sounding obnoxiously loud in the small space, and Rodimus clung onto the bigger ‘Con tightly for fear that if he let go that the bot would start fragging him across the floor.

Rodimus’ systems started to reach dangerous levels by the time he felt overload tickling in his abdomen. Small sparks danced in between their bodies as the charge built and built, making Rodimus’ frame snap taut when it finally hit him.

Deadlock pulled away from their kiss in order to latch onto Rodimus’ neck. Rodimus’ hips bucked and shuddered, but lurched up in a secondary overload as he felt Deadlocks teeth puncture a thick cable where his neck met his shoulder. He yelled, his vision shorting out completely, and he felt more than saw Deadlock overload deep inside his valve. His oversensitive walls almost burned at the contact with the other mechs transfluid, but his nodes delighted in the stimulation and sent another small wave of pleasure up his spinal strut before leaving him completely lifeless in the bigger ‘Con’s arms.

Both he and Deadlocks systems were slowly stabilizing as the charge between then dwindled before disappearing completely. Their fans, however, were working on overtime in a futile attempt to cool their systems. The air circulation in their little cave wasn’t ideal. It would take a lot of panting and gasping for them to properly cool off.

“Frag,” Rodimus panted and thumped his head back and wiped some coolant off his brow. “That was kinda awesome.”

Deadlock snorted, seeming surprised by the comment, but then rumbled as he lapped up the energon that gently oozed from Rodimus’ neck cable.

“You’ve got a nice cunt for an Autobot,” Deadlock hummed and gave a sudden buck.

Rodimus yelped, but smirked as he clenched down on the ‘Cons thick spike.

“How about we keep this between us? You know because of treason and all that.” Deadlock hummed in agreement and Rodimus continued, “Especially since I’m sure that we’re going to need another overload or two to fully dissipate this charge….whatdya say?”

Deadlock snorted and rolled his optics, but slowly gyrated his hips back into Rodimus as a small charge started to build again.

“Just between us, hm? Fine. If you think you can handle any more rounds little Autobot.”

“We’re the same size you fragger,” Rodimus deadpanned. “Will you stop that whole, ‘aw I’m a big ol Con and I gotta put you down every ten klicks’ and just keep fragging me? You’re _far_ more interesting when you stop flapping your ego.”

“……As you wish.”


End file.
